It was a wonderous day and Melvin, with little to be concerned with, jauntily progressed, almost… challengingly so, down the wooded path oblivious to his fate. The banana peel having little in the way of provocative placement awaited its part… the fruition to be counted in heartbeats rather than moments, as Melvin stepped lively around the corner and down the trail. Only a banana peel can wait so tirelessly for its part in destiny.

It was breath-taking. Simultaneously caused by heart pumping exhaustion and the exhilaration of exceeding their previous best. Crouched low, the two were as one on the tandem bicycle. Just 3° off chaos (someday their skill will allow 1° —that's where champions play); but—3°s has put them in the top 10 and on the downhill run to the finish. And—they can maintain 3° in this E2 state of exhaustion and exhilaration.

What happened next was only clarified by the recovery to consciousness of Mark. Kay's recollection was obviously fuzzy; as she was the driver, Mark, the pusher. All Kay knew was that without "reason", the 3°s of "comfort"… collapsed, and she awoke with the front half of the tandem conforming to her body —that is—where the tandem still existed.
Mark, on regaining relevance, recounted the events from his foggy mind. They were tucked tight and providing the appearance, to one whom did not know, of one animal with four legs; four legs in powered conformity. Mark's face buried in the airfoil of Kay's hip. Then she farted and 3°s from, became 2°s past, chaos.

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